Kings And Horses
by Futakuchi Onna
Summary: Eight times a Hollow was beat down and one time she wasn't.
1. Grin

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

It was a little known fact that Shinji didn't actually fight his Inner Hollow. He suppressed it plenty, held it back of course, but he never actually engaged it in combat. When the time came for them to go head to head, Shinji slipped into his inner world and waited for the Hollow to materialize. When it did, he could only think that it was a grotesque mockery of him.

Where Shinji's hair was gold and straight, this creature's was completely white, and hung in ragged tangles around a pale face. The eyes were unusual - the sclera was pitch black, and the iris a tantalizing amber as opposed to Shinji's own pale blue. It's shinigami robes and captain's haori were in colours exactly opposite of the pieces Shinji wore - that is, where Shinji's were white, the Hollow's were black, and vice versa. It even clutched a reversed replica of Shinji's sword.

The real Shinji initiated the conversation, beginning with a long, entirely fabricated speech about how they would be stronger together. The replica sneered and laughed, before he suddenly swept his sword up, obviously meaning to plunge the tip into Shinji's neck. He clearly didn't expect Shinji to block it easily with one hand, and grin disconcertingly, even with blood dripping down his forearm.

Suddenly the Hollow grinned back, lips pulling apart to reveal too-large, too-sharp teeth identical to Shinji's. Shinji reached a hand out and grabbed his Hollow's sleeve, the grin fading from his face as he looked at his Hollow. Their eyes locked, and the grin returned to Shinji, only this time it was nasty.

He spoke again then, but this time there were no pretty words or double entendres, only a simple, closing statement which could have been anything from a calm request to a rule set in stone.

'Follow my lead.'

And the Hollow nodded.


	2. Girl Meets Star

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

Mashiro was quite proud of her inner world. It was a large open space, full of perpetual night and enough stars to please even her. Mashiro loved stars, always had. They just seemed mysterious, barely out of reach, an unattainable beauty that was to be yearned for but never achieved. So when the strange black and white version of herself appeared and started destroying her world, Mashiro got mad. Very mad.

She struggled with it for years, just keeping it as far away as she could, but it crept closer to the surface all the time. Soon it was manifesting, only a little bit, at first, and then more and more, until it was wresting full control of her body for short, quickly suppressed bursts. Mashiro began spending more time alone, distancing herself, so that her former friends and allies wouldn't have to deal with what she was becoming.

She held the copy back for as long as she could, but there was bound to be a confrontation sooner or later, so one day in late July she ran as far from Seireitei as she could, going out beyond even the eighty districts of Rukongai into the uninhabited wastelands. Mashiro plunged into her inner world, sword already swinging, and faced off against what she had by now figured out was her Inner Hollow. They exchanged many a blow, and her Hollow slowly but surely beat her into the ground.

As she knelt there, on the ground of her inner world, about to be dealt the blow that would finish her once and for all and steal all control of her body from her, Mashiro looked up at her Hollow. It paused for a moment, sword raised, before it smiled, looking like a cat, and lowered the blade. It held out a paper white hand.

Mashiro realized with a start what it was. It was the star - the one she always wanted but never got, that unattainable perfection. And it was reaching down to her, offering help.

She took the hand.


	3. The Best Fight Yet

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

When Kensei fought his Hollow, it was brutal and long. Their swords clashed, over and over, with enough force to make their arms ache after exchanging only a few blows. Kensei grinned, whirling his blade in a short arc until it connected with his Hollow's arm. The Hollow leered back, jabbing ruthlessly towards Kensei's gut. He parried, dodged, and wove, all the while giddy with glee at the adrenaline rush.

Suddenly the Hollow swung his sword in a decisive circle, sending it howling down towards Kensei. He smacked it away and dove in again.

The thrill in his veins, the eager hum under his skin, the way his hair stood on end - all of these were the signs that told Kensei loud and clear what he already knew. This was a good fight. A bloody fantastic fight, even. Every movement was sloppy and crude and unrefined, just the way he liked it. His feet were wearing holes in the fabric underfoot - Kensei's inner world was suspended midair in a flawless blue sky, a wide expanse of springy scarlet cloth stretching as far as the eye could see the only other aspect.

Kensei was steadily beat back, advancing towards the edge of his cloth floor - couldn't see it, but he sure could feel it in the way his zanpakuto was singing to him. He didn't know what waited over the edge, and he didn't want to know - if his sword's screams of terror were any indication, whatever it was was _bad_ - very bad.

So he summoned his last vestiges of strength to his arms, and _shoved_, pouring his reiatsu into that one strike. The Hollow staggered back, startled, and Kensei managed to trip it and knock it's sword away all in one motion. Panting and exhausted, he placed the tip of his sword at the creatures neck, sneering down at it.

"Truce?"


	4. In Times Of Great Need

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

Lisa Yadomaru adjusted her glasses and frowned minutely. The slender young woman opposite her smirked, hand coming to fall on the hilt of her sword. Lisa, however, was unfazed. She slithered to the floor, ending up crosslegged on a stack of paper covered with random, childish scribbles. The sheath clattered noisily when she drew her sword. The Hollow, still smirking, copied her movements to perfection.

Laying her sword across her thighs, Lisa steepled her hands before her face and rolled her shoulders backwards. The Hollow deviated this time, instead opting to sprawl over the papers, sword plunged hilt-deep into a stack at her right. "So," murmured Lisa.

"So," the Hollow drawled back.

"You are my inner Hollow."

"Mmhm."

"And you want control of my - our - body."

"That's the idea, yeah."

"Well. What do you propose we... hang on, do you even have a name?"

"Nah. Tell ya what, you can give me any name you like if you let me have the body."

"I'm not that stupid."

"You look it."

"And you look like you need a tan. We all have our flaws. So, shall we get to it then?"

"The fighting, you mean?"

"What else? But is it absolutely necessary? I'd prefer you to just concede defeat."

"Thought you said you weren't stupid."

"Well, if we must." Lisa curled her fingers around the hilt of her sword and abruptly shunpo'ed behind the Hollow. Her blade jabbed around, only to be parried aside and knocked away. Lisa plunged in for another attack.

Well, if she must.


	5. Snaggletooth

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

Damn, but that smarted. She smeared the back of her hand across her mouth and it came away scarlet. Shit, she was bleeding. Didn't think she'd been hit _that_ hard. Oh, well.

Hiyori wheeled around, just barely anticipating the next attack and blocking it. This was bad. She was getting her ass handed to her by a creepy pale clone with a friggin' blue tongue. Sooo not something to brag about.

The Hollow ducked in from the side and smashed it's fist into her cheekbone again. Hiyori choked in surprise when a small chunk of something white dropped over her lip to the floor. She whirled back, seething, and pounded her knee into the Hollow's gut. It doubled over in pain, coughing, a startled expression smacking onto it's face. Hiyori didn't give it time to recover, hammering blow after blow onto the creature. It tried, weakly, to shove her off a couple of times, but to no effect.

The Hollow got pounded into the ground. It was kind of surreal, beating up someone who looked so much like herself, but hey, whatever. It had broken her _tooth_.

Hiyori grabbed the Hollow's shirt and slammed it against the crooked, limey yellow wall of her inner world. "Don't touch my goddamn teeth," she snarled. "That's rule number one." She let the Hollow slide down to the equally crooked magenta floor and kicked it one last time for good measure. Plunging out of her inner world, her hand immediately flew to her mouth.

Her fingers probed around, running hurriedly over every tooth and making sure they were all okay. Satisfied, she brushed off her clothes and rearranged her hair, yanking it firmly back out into it's original pigtails. Her sword dropped into it's sheath with a satisfying 'thunk.'

She couldn't resist one last sweep of her mouth, ensuring that every single tooth remained unchipped and firmly affixed to it's proper, crooked place.

After all, they were charming assets.


End file.
